


The Care and Feeding of a GOAT

by thedailygrind



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Gen, Yuzuru Hanyu-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedailygrind/pseuds/thedailygrind
Summary: Raising an Olympic champion is no easy feat, just ask Brian Orser.also known as, that time (and that time, and that other time) Yuzuru Hanyu made Brian Orser age prematurely.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88





	1. That Time With Origin

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Brian’s always been the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, and maybe that’s put him in trouble with the press a couple of times, caught off guard with his foot in his mouth.

If you asked him when he first started coaching, if he thought a well behaved, overly polite, super talented Japanese skater would be the worst of his worries, Brian would’ve laughed in your face.

He’d just spent 12 months having screaming, throwing matches with Javi at the Cricket Club. Fifty percent of billable hours went to nagging Javi to show up to practice on time, and the other fifty percent went to making sure Javi didn’t spend too much time on his playstation, or socializing over the weekend.

Brian never thought he’d consider overt dedication to a sport to be a ‘problem’.

That’s before he meets Yuzuru Hanyu.

Yuzuru keeps Brian on his toes. 

It’s a full time, thankless job. If Brian isn’t busy preventing Yuzuru’s quad axels attempts, he’s occupied making sure Yuzuru is not lying about his health _again_ and 

a. competing while in the delirious throes of a high fever 

b. competing with emergency stitches in his head and a possible concussion or 

c. competing while blood oozes out of various cavities of his body, staining the floor and his costume, and resulting in an emergency surgery after the freeskate.

All of the following keeps Brian running ragged to the bone so it’s somewhat comforting to know that when he’s not skating, Yuzuru is safe at home, looking for new program music, studying scientific theories, all of which have one goal - to improve his on ice performance.

Yuzuru Hanyu was born to skate, Brian thinks, but once in awhile he wishes the boy would loosen up a little and have fun.

Brian regrets the thought the very next day when Jeffrey comments that maybe gaining a little life experience will help Yuzuru to bring more of a sexy, masculine appeal to Origin. Yuzuru frowns, thinking about it, and comes back fresh and energetic on Monday morning, a dark hickey low on his neck.

When Tracy is horrified enough to ask, Yuzuru shrugs, spreads his hands out on the table and says, “I have date.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” Jason stutters, gawking at the bruise, stark against Yuzuru’s pale skin.

“I’m not,” Yuzu shrugs completely unconcerned. He casually unwraps an onigiri from his bento box, “is research.”

Tracy chokes on her coffee. 

“Yuzu,” she says, once the coughing spell has worn off, unable to help her motherly instincts from taking over, “you went on a date as research?”

“Jeffrey say I need experience,” Yuzuru continues dismissively, “so I lose virginity.”


	2. That Time in Barcelona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuzuru is very good at making people mad.

Early autumn is beautiful in Tokyo, Javi thinks, with its endless stretches of blue sky and the air, clean and crisp with the hint of the forthcoming frost.

The trees that pave the neat little streets shed their foliage, sending red-golden leaves dancing through the air, carpeting the ground in majestic grandeur.

It's so beautiful, Javi thinks, his heart aching, which is why it feels so wrong that he's trapped in this dull grey building, with its beeping machines and whirring tubes and the cloyingly sweet smell of anesthetic that fills the air.

Yuzuru looks so pale and small as he lies there, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, so shallow Javi has to stroke his finger over the paper-thin skin of Yuzuru's wrist, so he can feel the comforting _thudthud_ of Yuzuru's heartbeat. Weak, but still there.

 _Mierda_ , Javi thinks, watching the way Yuzuru’s eyelashes tremble as he sleeps, _would it kill you to be a little less_ _secretive_?

In Barcelona, Yuzuru had been withdrawn, but Javi’s mind had been miles away on the Grand Prix Final, the pressure of winning, the pressure of finally performing in front of his home crowd.

He’d wanted to do so well for them, to _win_ , in the hope that Spain might start to take figure skating seriously. And it had been a good fight too, but Yuzuru had inched him out and taken home the gold.

Faced with such a brilliant skate, Javi couldn’t even find it in himself to be upset. They'd hugged and agreed to meet back in Toronto in January to train for Worlds. He'd taken some time off to stay in Spain, visiting family and entertaining media questions while Yuzuru flew to Japan for the Japanese Nationals. 

Javi's connecting flight had just landed in Tokyo when he'd seen the seventeen missed calls and six voicemails from Brian. Javi chances it and dials Brian's number, drumming his fingers on his lap as the call connects.

Brian picks up on the third ring. "Javi? Oh thank god!"

"What's going on?" Javi asks as Brian says, accusingly, "did you know about this?"

“I know he’s fucking secretive,” Brian is ranting, in what Javi recognizes as his _genuinely angry_ voice, “but this is ridiculous. Did he make you cover for him?”

There's only one _he_ in the world that could drive Brian this crazy.

“Cover what?” Javier says.

Brian is silent.

“ _Brian_ ,” Javi says, gritting his teeth, his voice going dangerously soft. “Did I know about what?”

In his sleep, Yuzuru whimpers, and Javi reaches to gently smooth the crease from his forehead.

"The doctors say he's going to be fine now," Brian says.

Javi whirls around to see him leaning against the door, watching them both with a complicated expression, looking as exhausted and under slept as Javi feels.

"How long have you been standing there?" Javi asks, getting up from his perch by Yuzuru's bed to join him by the door.

"Not long enough, apparently," Brian says, wryly, his eyes drifting back to the bed where Yuzuru's still asleep.

They watch him, the room silent aside from the awful mechanical whirring of the oxygen tank, the gadget, Javi thinks with a sick sense of realization that's helping Yuzuru _breathe_ because he can't do it on his own right now.

"I don't know why I didn't notice," Brian says and when Javi looks back at him, his eyes are suspiciously wet. "The doctors say it's been going on for a while now, at least from Barcelona. That's three weeks. Stupid, _stupid_ boy."

Brian's voice wavers, and Javi puts an arm around him.

"He was going to skate in the gala. He had everything booked for world team trophy," Brian says, shaking his head, "I mean what was he _thinking?_ The only reason we got him here in time is because Ghislain saw blood stains on his costume at the Kiss and Cry. He's been skating with balled up tissue papers pressed against the wound, so it wouldn't _stain_."

Brian turns to look at Javi incredulously, "I mean, can you believe this kid?"

It hurts because Javi absolutely can. They've gone through so much together these past four years, so much blood, and sweat and pain and tears. He wouldn't be their Yuzu if he did _normal._

"I can't believe I didn't see this coming, Javi." Brian says, brokenly, "I should've stopped it. How did it get so bad?"

"I don't know, Brian," Javi says, looking at Yuzuru's pale, motionless face, imagining him in his Phantom of the Opera costume, crimson red bleeding thorough the elegant white and blue-gold of the fabric. The picture steals the air from his lungs. "I just don't know."

"Javi," Yuzu rasps.

It's three AM, and the room is dark but Javi's awake and worried and jet-lagged, which is why he volunteered to take first shift in the hospital while the others went home to rest.

That's the excuse he gives Brian anyway.

The truth was, once he'd gotten to the room, he hadn't been able to bring himself to leave. He'd made that mistake once before and look where it had left them.

Yuzuru peers up at him, blinking to clear away the sleep from his eyes as he lifts his hand to Javi’s face.

His fingertips barely brush Javi's cheek before he winces and drops his hand sharply with a groan of pain.

“You make me so angry, _querido_ ,” Javi says, fierce, but the retort comes out as a whisper, tender rather than reprimanding.

Yuzuru lifts his hand to pull his ventilator off but Javi stops him, interlacing their fingers and catching him by the hand.

"No, not now." Javi says, "now I talk and you listen."

Yuzuru blinks helplessly at him and suddenly Javi's not angry anymore, just worried, and terrified and Yuzuru watches him with those dark, wise eyes, patient and waiting.

"What were you thinking?" Javi says, his throat feeling choked, and too tight. "It's one competition. You've already won the Olympics, what more do you want? This isn't the first time you've had an operation this year."

Beneath the plastic ventilator, Yuzuru's mouth parts and closes, but nothing comes out. Javi gently pulls off the ventilator, picks up the glass of water and helps him swallow, running a thumb across those dry, cracked lips.

"They said you had a reaction to the anesthetics," Javi says, “you wouldn't wake up--"

"I wake up," Yuzuru says confident, like he's reciting an obvious fact. "I still want podium with Javi at Olympics."

"Two gold medals. I don't miss that."

Yuzuru is smiling at him, like its a foregone conclusion that he's going to keep taking ridiculous risks, and keep surviving somehow, on pure force of will alone. It's that kind of bold, reckless daring that makes Javi sometimes feel like he can be the kind of man, be the kind of figure skater Yuzuru thinks he is.

In a rare moment of impulse, Javi cups his cheek and leans his forehead against Yuzuru's, until they're so close, they're sharing the same breath.

"Sorry,” Yuzuru murmurs looking up at Javi, “this is my way. Best way. I win Grand Prix Final. I win Nationals. It make Shanghai worth it.”

"Just please don't do that again," Javi whispers, his breath kissing Yuzuru's cheek, "promise me."

"I can't," Yuzuru says.

It's not meant to be unkind but Javi feels the stab of irritation all the same.

Still, Yuzuru's never pretended to be anything other than what he is.

Javi already knew that.

Yuzuru is back training at the Cricket Club by mid January.

It's almost like nothing's changed at all, except everything has, because Javi catches himself watching Yuzuru from across the rink, catches himself searching for him whenever they're in the same room, just to reassure himself that he's still there.

After Tokyo, Javi watches him with the intense knowledge that Yuzuru has a hair trigger and a thousand ways to wreck himself to pieces.

Ghislain joins him from where Javi's leaning against the wall of the ice rink, watching Yuzuru throw himself into quad axel attempt after quad axel attempt. They both wince every time he goes down, each time just as vicious as the last.

"That'll leave marks," Ghislain says, wincing.

They watch as Yuzuru slowly pulls himself to his knees, dusting off the ice from his practice pants.

"How do you do it?" Javi wants to ask him, "how do you stand watching him, knowing what he does to himself?"

"Brian gives me a lot of flak for letting him do this you know," Ghislain says, as Yuzuru goes down particularly hard, and has to lie down for a moment on the ice, just catching his breath.

"I don't know why you don't stop him," Javi says, unable to hide the edge in his voice. "You're his coach."

Ghislain doesn't answer right away, but when Javi looks over he sees Ghislain watching him eyes patient and knowing.

"He's a smart kid," Ghislain says, gently, "and he knows what he wants out of his career. Getting in his way is only going to backfire on you the way its backfiring on Brian right now.He knows what he's doing, we've seen that."

Javi thinks about Yuzuru lying in a hospital bed, and clenches his fists.

"Does he?" Javi asks.

"It's better he's doing this here, under my watch, than all by himself god knows where."

Javi thinks about Yuzuru stubborn and alone in the ambulance ride on the way to the hospital, Yumi who had sat in the hospital lobby and cried and cried, sick with guilt that she hadn't noticed, that he had hidden it so well.

Ghislain gives Javi a cryptic smile as he pushes away from the barriers back to where Yuzuru is standing across the rink, frowning up at the wooden board inscribed with the names of TCC's Olympic medalists.

It's not easy, loving someone, Javier Fernandez realizes, after eight seasons of competing by Yuzu's side, but sometimes the best way to love them is knowing they're going to wreck themselves to pieces, and being there to catch them anyway.


End file.
